


I'll Take Care of You

by mean_whale



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Body Worship, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Bottom Shiro Week 2019, Creampie, Emotions, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Kissing, M/M, Permanent Injury, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Soft Keith (Voltron), Top Keith (Voltron), i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 17:16:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17471669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mean_whale/pseuds/mean_whale
Summary: Shiro has had a long day so Keith takes care of him.





	I'll Take Care of You

When their lips met in a soft touch, it reminded Keith of their first kiss: exciting, but mostly warm, smiles tugging on their lips, and Shiro's warm hand pressed against his cheek, fingers tracing the edge of his jaw and thumb stroking his skin. Most of their kisses since had been hungry, with a sharp edge of desperation, a rush of arousal surging through them and tossing them into each other. As much as Keith liked the feeling of suddenly being wanted so badly, he liked this slow desire even more.

Shiro was still wearing his uniform, had hardly even stopped to take off his boots before flopping down on the bed. Keith had watched him sigh deeply and spread out his arms before stopping all movement.

“Long day?” Keith asked.

Shiro groaned tiredly. It was enough.

Keith had made his way to the bed to lie down next to Shiro, their legs hanging off the edge. He settled against Shiro's side, slowly shuffling closer until he was resting his head on Shiro's shoulder and had his arm flung over Shiro's waist.

Shiro's eyes were closed. Keith looked at the edge of his jaw, and his heart leaped as he thought about how manly Shiro's jaw was. He slowly reached up to trail a finger over it, how sturdy it was compared to his finger. He followed the edge of the bone up to Shiro's ear.

Shiro had opened his eyes and turned his head to look at Keith with amusement.

“Something on your mind?” Shiro asked.

Keith hummed in response, not quite willing to put it into words; the way his chest squirmed when he thought about Shiro, being allowed to touch Shiro, just lying in bed next to Shiro whose uniform was wrinkled from a full day of work, who only let his guard completely down in their shared space.

Shiro, who had always been his sun; who was a friend but also a hero, who was his support but also a mentor; Shiro, who was always there to make his life better but always at a distance, somehow completely untouchable. Keith thought about the times when the distance between them had been too much, had left him cold and alone, but every hug, every touch on his shoulder had been too much, like he might burst to flames and Shiro's fire would consume him.

The weight in his chest was a remainder from that time, the memory of not being enough to be this close to Shiro. The wonder of how things had changed between them, all the love he had ever felt towards the one man who saved him and destroyed him, held him up after he had built himself again and into something better, who had never purposefully looked away. He pressed his face against Shiro's neck and thought about the quiet balance they had both gained the moment they stopped dancing around each other, dodging every sign of mutual want; the moment they had stopped and breathed each other in, the way their kiss had finally confessed to the years of frustrated waiting.

And he still thought of that when Shiro's tongue licked over his lips, a quick flicker of a question, and Keith pressed closer, fingers combing through Shiro's silky hair. They hadn't said a word since Shiro's last question, and it wasn't necessary; all the words, all the feelings were contained in the pressure of Keith's hands on Shiro's skin. He splayed his fingers over Shiro’s chest, his reach too small with Shiro’s shirt still on, restricting the way Keith wanted to be close. Shiro’s sigh was happy, and Keith wanted to keep making him happy. He wanted to touch every part of Shiro, see him melt into the bed under his wandering hands, wanted to look Shiro in the eyes at the moment of release.

He wanted Shiro to feel the way Shiro made him feel, had always made him feel just by being there, being himself, his body growing into something remarkably more than it had been. Keith could have never thought that to happen, yet here he was, pulling off Shiro’s shirt so he could sink his teeth onto Shiro’s full chest, feel the give of the soft skin under his bite. Shiro’s groan was quiet but Keith wanted to hear him more, wanted to force the voice out of Shiro’s throat. He licked his way down Shiro’s toned abs, bit gently on the skin over his hip bone, then kissed his way up the other side to swirl his tongue over a perky nipple, how Shiro’s supple breast felt under his lips as he sucked the nipple into his mouth, sucked so hard Shiro couldn’t hold back his moan.

Shiro's left hand was fisted in the beddings when Keith kissed his way back up to his mouth, his lips now open so it was easy to sink his tongue inside. He swallowed every whimper, his hands mapping the uneven scars of Shiro's torso, each one a sign of life. _You lived_ , they said, and that's what Keith wanted his hands and lips to say too, sing their praise of Shiro's life that Shiro had then chosen to share with him.

He shifted to slot his leg between Shiro's, pressed down to feel Shiro's erection against his thigh, his own arousal mere noise in the background because this was about Shiro as much as it was about him, and when it was about Shiro, nothing else mattered as much. He rolled his hips against Shiro to say _I want you, I want you so bad_.

“Keith,” Shiro rasped, voice of arousal.

Keith sucked his tongue in his mouth and trailed his hand down to Shiro's trembling abs.

“I got you,” he said against Shiro's mouth. “I'll take care of you.”

Shiro lifted his artificial arm, holding out a bottle of lube. Keith stopped to look at it, then snorted.

“What's this?” he asked gently and took the offered bottle. “Trying to suggest something, huh?”

Shiro's smile was lazy and heavy. Keith answered it with his own, putting the bottle aside as he descended into yet another kiss while his hands were busy removing the rest of Shiro's clothes.

“You too,” Shiro sighed, letting go of the sheets to pull on the hem of Keith's shirt.

Keith chuckled, the sound of it fond and soft in the bubble of them, the warmth that had wrapped around them. He straddled Shiro’s hips and removed his shirt, could feel Shiro's eyes on his body, their slide on his skin, and Shiro was reaching up to rest his left hand on Keith's hip. Shiro's fingers were thick and calloused, Keith wanted to feel them press so hard on his skin it would bruise, he wanted to always feel them on his skin. He took a hold of Shiro's hand and lifted it to his lips, a small kiss on the knuckles before he pulled two fingers in his mouth. Shiro's breath hitched as he sucked on them, flicked his tongue between them.

“Fuck, Keith,” Shiro's voice was low and breathy.

Shiro pressed his fingers down on Keith's tongue and Keith smiled internally. He rolled his hips over Shiro's cock, the rough drag of his jeans on the sensitive skin making Shiro groan.

“Please,” Shiro whispered.

The first time Shiro had pleaded for him, Keith had felt like suddenly his body exploded, leaving behind only shrapnel that Shiro then had to put back together. He both cherished and dreaded the memory: it was the first time Shiro put himself in such a vulnerable position, trusted Keith to give him everything he wanted, the first time Keith had felt bigger, more in charge, more, like he was enough and more – but it was also the time when he had suddenly come, Shiro’s single whiny _please_ dragging over his body and squeezing him into nothing but pleasure, his gasp loud and cheeks already burning with the humiliation of coming before he had even pushed in Shiro, the proof of his pleasure slowly sliding over Shiro’s firm butt cheek.

Shiro had laughed, delighted, had explained how hot it was, how powerful it made him feel, but Keith was happy when it didn’t happen the next time Shiro pleaded. Or the next. Or the next.

Maybe Shiro was slightly disappointed.

Keith’s hands roamed up to Shiro’s chest again, squeezing the pectorals, teasing them, kneading them. He liked the feel of Shiro’s hard nipple under his right hand, the fingers of his left hand gently stroking over where another nipple should be. He sucked on Shiro’s fingers again before pulling away, appreciative of the whine Shiro let out.

“I’ll take care of you, baby,” Keith repeated.

He pushed and prodded until Shiro was lying on his side, excited tremors in the air as Keith dragged his fingertips down Shiro’s back, again, again, each time with a bit more pressure but not enough to be a proper scratch. He turned his hands to cup Shiro’s ass, firm muscle, just as strong as everything about Shiro was, just as perfect, just as beautiful. His fingers slowly swirled over the warm skin, moving inward until he could feel the pucker of Shiro’s entrance twitch under a fingertip.

“Keith,” Shiro sighed.

Keith would never get tired of hearing his name on Shiro’s lips, and he pressed his mouth on Shiro’s shoulder blade while rubbing a wet finger over Shiro’s hole, spreading the lube around it as his lips listened to the fire burning under Shiro’s skin.

“Keith,” Shiro whispered, and it was the most beautiful sound, one that stuck around them, and Keith kissed it into Shiro’s skin.

“I love you,” he whispered against Shiro's nape, fingers spreading Shiro open for him.

He breathed in the scent of Shiro, the skin, the sweat, the memory of cologne, his teeth nipping the skin right on Shiro's hairline. Shiro's hole was wet and soft, pulling on his fingers, and he wished that he could see it happen, wished that he could watch the muscle give in and grant him access, spread with his fingers, twitch helplessly when he pulls away. He had watched it so many times, had taken his time to play with Shiro, learned how Shiro's body worked; had watched his come slowly dripping out of Shiro's sloppy hole and down his taint. But right now, it was more important to lie here, feel Shiro's heart beat under his left palm, feel their skins stick together as Shiro moaned quietly.

He brushed over Shiro's prostate and revelled in the full-body jolt it caused, the broken whine that left Shiro's throat. He had purposefully been avoiding it, let his fingers rub close but never quite enough, and he could tell Shiro wanted more, could tell from the strained breaths and the twitch of the muscles under his lips.

“Keith, please,” Shiro moaned. “Please, give me more.”

“I'll take care of you,” Keith said once again, but did nothing to change the leisurely pace of his fingers sliding in and out, occasionally rubbing against Shiro's prostate and stretching the tight fit.

“Fuck, Keith,” Shiro was moaning louder.

It felt good, everything perfect in the moment: Shiro's quickened breath, Shiro's broken voice, the taste of his skin under Keith's tongue, the heat of his insides around Keith's fingers, the tightness, the wetness, the fire burning in them.

“Keith,” Shiro whined, voice pitifully fragile. “Keith, please. Please, your cock. Please, I want it.”

Keith hummed against Shiro's skin, pulled his fingers out and smiled at Shiro's whimper. He didn't hurry but worked quickly, opened the fly of his jeans and pushed them down just enough to free his cock. It had been aching for what felt like hours, but all that mattered was Shiro's pleasure, Shiro's needs.

Shiro was loud when Keith entered, the tip of his cock pushing against the pucker until it breached the tight muscle and slipped in. Keith sighed, the moisture of his breath a warm spot on Shiro's back. He pressed in slowly, each millimetre a pleasure in itself, each whine it tore from Shiro feeding his fire. Shiro was tight, hot, Shiro was everything, and when Keith's hips met the soft flesh of Shiro's ass, he could have stopped there, stayed for an eternity just drowning in Shiro.

His first thrusts were small, hips rolling into Shiro. He was clinging to Shiro's waist, arms wrapped tight around it, lips pressed against Shiro's nape as each thrust pulled a low groan out of him. He wanted to mark Shiro with his breath, let their bodies become one.

“Keith,” Shiro breathed, chest heaving with moans that Keith was fucking out of him. “Keith, Keith.”

Shiro was squirming, pushing his hips back to each thrust, and Keith cupped his chest, felt the firm muscle covered by soft skin in his palms, squeezing as his thrusts sped up. He let his right hand trail down, felt the tremble of Shiro's abs before wrapping his fingers around Shiro's weeping cock.

“You're so wet for me, baby,” he gasped, voice not much more than a whisper, low and raspy. “You are so good for me, Takashi. So good.”

Shiro's whimpers got louder, his cock hot and heavy in Keith's hand, and Keith fucked him as hard as he could, his own groans turning desperate, Shiro tight around him, squeezing tighter each time Keith hit his prostate – and Shiro unravelled, a broken moan echoing around them as his come spurted onto his abs, the bed, Keith's hand, sobs of pleasure racking his body and Keith stroked him through it, soothing kisses against his sweaty shoulder before letting go himself, the pleasure right there for the taking, his hips rolling erratically. Shiro was sobbing into the bed, his oversensitive hole rubbing over Keith's length, and Keith came deep inside him with Shiro's name on his lips, fingers pressed hard into Shiro's skin.

He was breathing against Shiro's back, nosing away a drop of sweat. His muscles had melted, he was draped over Shiro, gently kissing over the shoulders before him with open mouth.

Gradually he pulled out, couldn't stop Shiro from twitching and whining. He pulled Shiro properly on the bed, turned him to lie on his back to see his face. Shiro smiled tiredly, eyes glazed over with sleep. Keith wiped his cheek with his clean hand.

“Did you really cry,” he whispered and leaned down to kiss Shiro's wet cheek. “Oh baby, I didn't want to make you cry.”

Shiro chuckled slowly.

“It’s good,” he said, words slurring together. “Was good.”

Keith stroked his hair and kissed his forehead.

“I'll take care of you,” he said.

He always would.

No matter what.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't remember when and where it was that I read a fic where Shiro was missing one of his nipples and I didn't like it but guess I did like it enough to do it to him.
> 
> I wanted to write something for bottom Shiro week and I managed! I don't know why writing porn has become so hard for me, like, I tried to write the usual pwp but got this weird emotional? thing? instead.
> 
> [mastodon](https://fandom.ink/@mean_whale) (but let's be honest I don't use it much)  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/mean_whale) (and let's be honest I use it too much)


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